


I Wanna Be Your Backdoor Man

by Mrs_Dark_Knight



Category: Hard Rock RPF, Led Zeppelin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Attempt at Humor, Fluff and Angst, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Smut, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9622064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Dark_Knight/pseuds/Mrs_Dark_Knight
Summary: Jimmy is a rebel who spends most of his time strumming away on his guitar, or, well, disappointing his parents. Robert is a nerdy new kid who had his whole life uprooted when his family moved to Lawrence, Wisconsin.Jimmy, against his better instincts, starts crushing like he never had before, and that's where things start to go wrong.





	1. It Started With A Lie

Jimmy was late, no surprise there. Lates were better than absents right?

For perhaps the hundredth time, he was late.

Not that he cared though, because if there was one thing he hated with all his being, it was school. And the close second was Literature class. The third? His Literature teacher.

The exact same Lit _class_ he had with the Lit _teacher_ for _three_ fucking sessions this morning. Why rush?

Groaning, he dragged his feet as he maneuvered the empty hallways, almost shuffling right pass his homeroom door.

He opened the door, steeling himself to face Mrs. Whitley's moue of disapproval, and sure enough there she was, scowling at him. But Jimmy didn't care because next to her was the most beautiful human being (at least he _thought_ he was human) he had ever seen—and that said a lot, because Jimmy considered himself in at least the top five. He was blonde, _golden,_ with spirals of hair falling around his shoulders, skin flawless in a way that defied the natural order. And maybe his floral blouse, silver bangles and too-tight jeans clearly spelled hippie in big bold letters, but Jimmy didn't mind, beautiful people were allowed to get away with horrible fashion choices.

"Late _again_ , Mr. Page?" She drawled, sounding oddly pleased with herself for calling him out in front of the new kid. "You're already setting a bad example for our newest student."

"Oh no, he really has done no such thing..." The golden boy— Goldilocks— was saying, fumbling with the sleeve of his shirt. And that's when Jimmy noticed the accent. The fucking British accent. He blinked, gaping for a while longer until he noticed everyone was staring expectantly at him.

Usually, he'd regard her with a blank stare till she got annoyed and sent him to his seat, but now, Goldie was staring at him too.

"Sorry?" He tried, and Mrs. Whitley looked ready to keel over because Jimmy never apologized for being late.

"Uhm, yes of course." She stuttered, "Well, since you're already standing, I'm sure you won't mind waiting till he's through with his introduction."

If that was supposed to be his punishment, she was way off, because now, he was close enough to see the dainty curl of Goldie's lashes, the tiny freckles on his cheeks, the glossy-green of his eyes— everything about him was perfect. How was that even _possible_?

"Uhm, yes." Goldie chuckled nervously, "My name is Robert Plant, I just moved here from England recently." Slender fingers reached up to fumble with a lock of golden hair— a nervous tic Jimmy assumed. "I uh... I'm not really good at introductions or anything sorry..." The kid seemed to be willing the floor to swallow him whole.

Mrs. Whitley took pity—apparently she was human after all—and helped him out. "So why did you choose literature Mr. Plant?"

"Oh." He gasped, beaming at her. Jimmy had to glance away so his eyeballs weren't scalded. "I love it, it's my favorite subject, I would live in my books if it were possible. They can take you anywhere."

Oh great, he's a nerd _and_ a hippy.

This kid was setting himself up to get bullied.

The woman looked impressed, "Ah yes, we'll get along just fine." She glanced at her students. "Well, I hope you'll all be nice to Robert and show him the ropes. Starting with you Jimmy, show him to a seat please?"

The only empty seats, the one at the back of the class next to Bonzo—which was his—and the one directly in front on it. He gestured for Goldie to follow him, sliding into him own seat and jerking his chin at the empty one before him.

"Thank you." He said, smiling sweetly before dropping his supplies on the desk and settling in.

Bonzo leaned towards him, grinning mischievously. "I think you have some drool on your chin there."

Jimmy was ashamed he raised his hand to check.

He didn't know how he ended up showing Goldie around after class—ok, so _maybe_ he had shoved Cassie out of the way when she offered to do it and hauled Goldie outside. Cassie looked momentarily stunned, she stood there staring at him like had grown a second head, Page didn't do _nice_. He also never went out of his way to talk to people.

They walked side by side and Jimmy found himself rambling on about everything (which was a surprise, since he would utter about three words on a good day, four if he was feeling generous), he showed him to the library—it was no surprise Goldie had lit up at that—and the music room, the whole works.

He got interrupted by passing students, boys and girls alike, who thought it was _necessary_ to seek his attention. He gritted his teeth and soldiered on.

"Wow," Goldie giggled and Jimmy swore it sounded like music to his ears and all sorts of poetic shit. "You're pretty popular huh?"

He shrugged, "People know my name." They left it at that.

The bell rang and dragged them out of their little world.

"What class do you have now?"

Robert glanced at his schedule, "Uhm, AP Math."

Oh, so he was in advanced classes, great. If he were anymore out of Jimmy's league he'd sprout wings and fly away. He wasn't exactly a dunce or anything, but his grades could use some _serious_ help (or according to his father, he was a disappointment that didn’t know his ass from his elbow).

Jimmy cleared his throat, "Ah, well see you later. Remember the test."

Robert paused, "How are her tests usually?"

 _She probably pulled them from the devils asshole since they're impossible to pass,_ he very carefully did not say. "Yeah, uh." He rubbed his neck, glaring at a senior who brushed a little too close to Goldie. "Yeah, they're _easy_. I mean, nothing you can't handle."

Robert looked impressed, he grinned at Jimmy and the brunette could feel his head go funny for a few seconds. "You're good at Lit? I can take your word for it, yeah?"

Later on, Jimmy swore up and down that it was the adorable little accent that convinced him to lie. "Uhhh yeaaaaah, I'm _great_ at it."

"Thanks for the tip." Goldie flashed him another soft smile, before mumbling something about being late and dashing off.

It took Jimmy's brain about a whole five minutes to reboot and set off warning sirens, he had just said he was _good_ at Lit—which everyone and their dogs knew was utter _bullshit_.

He sighed, leaning against the cool metal of his locker. "Aww Christ Jimmy, what the fuck?"

\-------------

_A test?_

_A fucking test though?_

"How come we're getting a test already?" He whined, poking at the shapeless blob the cafeteria plopped on his plate today.

Bonzo snorted, shoveling the sludge down with way too much fervor. "Uhm, she's been talking about this test for weeks, man."

Jimmy blinked, "where was I?"

"Sleeping or absent, hiding out in the music room." He replied with a smirk. "Or all three."

Some girl slowed at their table and waved nervously at him. He stared at without a word her till she skittered away. "But how am I supposed to read Othello in one night?"

"Jimmy, baby." Bonzo was giving him that squinty glare, the one that meant: 'why the fuck do I even talk to you?' "We've been studying that book for the better half of the semester."

"We were?" Jimmy wrinkled his nose, "Where was I?"

"Well, _we_ were reading it. You were..." Bonzo sighed heavily, like talking to Jimmy was a grievous task. "I already answered that."

Jimmy dropped his fork and buried his face in his hands. How was he supposed to impress Goldie (though he'd never admit that he wanted to) with excellent Literature grades if they were more or less shit? The highest he can remember ever getting is something along the lines of 51%, which really was nothing at all.

"What's up with Princess Page?" John muttered, lowering his tray to their table.

"There's this new guy he wants to bang—"

"Again?" And OK, maybe he had a bit of a _reputation_ for uhm… sleeping around a bit, but that didn't make John's statement hurt any less.

Bonzo chuckled, "Yes, again. Except this one is all nerdy, British and in love with Literature."

"Oh, but he's shit at literature." John snorted, warming up to the topic. "Can you even read?"

Jimmy really hated his friends.

"Exactly, and we have a test tomorrow, which would have been his chance to impress the guy—"

"But he's shit at literature." John finished, looking ridiculously pleased with himself. "Wow that sucks." He added, chewing thoughtfully.

Jimmy glared at them from between his fingers. "Thanks for that Bonzo." He lowered his hands with a sigh. "I don't care about the hippie, I just can't afford to fail this class again."

"Sure..." Bonzo said, smiling across the table at him. "I believe you."

Robert chose that exact moment to saunter in, all shy smiles and flushed cheeks. Jimmy knew he did not imagine the whole room getting quieter. Well, at least he wasn't the only staring. The blonde hesitantly approached Jimmy, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Hey.”

“Hello.” He replied, trying his best not to sound like he was about to fail literature. “How was class?”

“It was really good, a bit of a challenge, but it would be boring if it weren’t.” Jimmy had no idea how someone could possibly radiate such purity and happiness after advanced math class, but he didn’t question it.

“Oh, he’s British.” John whispered to Bonzo, loud enough for even Jimmy to hear. “No wonder Jimmy’s about ready to—”

The brunette cleared his throat loudly, “These are my friends Bonzo and John. Guys this is Robert.”

“Hi Robert, Welcome to Lawrence.” Bonzo shook Goldie’s hand, smiling. “How are you liking it?”

The blonde laughed and Jimmy felt irrationally jealous that Bonzo was the one who made him. “Well, it’s only been a day, but I’ve met some interesting people. It’s not so bad.” Robert fumbled nervously with one of his many necklaces. “Uhm, I’m gonna go grab some lunch. Nice to meet you all.” Jimmy didn’t even realize he was staring till John tossed his plastic fork at his head.

"Oh god," he groaned, the extent of his shitty situation finally started sinking in. Robert would probably think he was some sort of idiot if he didn’t pull off a halfway decent grade. "I need to pass this test."

Bonzo and John shared a knowing look.

How the fuck would be pull that off in less than 24 hours? He looked from Bonzo to John, fluttering his lashes in what he hoped was an attractive manner. "So boys, Sparknotes and chill?"

John snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re gonna need much more than that to save you.”

Fine. He'd use Sparknotes, Bulbsoup and even the second page of Google. He was that desperate.


	2. No Self-preservation

He really should have expected this.

Failing, that is.

All that Sparknotes and chill could only get him a 68%. Which was way more than he usually scored, if he was being _totally_ honest. Robert turned to say something to him and Jimmy practically crushed the thing and shoved it his jacket pocket. Hell, he would have shoved it in his mouth if all else failed. "Does she usually keep your papers?" He whispered, worrying his plush lower lip—not that Jimmy was looking or anything. "I mean, I know it's in her hand but she didn't give it back."

Bonzo was next to him snickering like the asshole he was while Jimmy tried frantically to formulate a response. "Uhm, don't worry, it's probably nothing."

Mrs. Whitley surveyed the classroom, "Well, I assume you all did your best on that test, and in happy to see some of you making improvements." She glanced pointedly in Jimmy's direction. "But I'd like to congratulate Robert for doing exceptionally well."

Robert's ears turned red that was probably because almost everyone had twisted in their seats to stare at him.

"Ninety-eight percent." Mrs. Whitley handed him his paper. "That's the highest I've ever gotten from my seniors in a while."

 _Oh great, he is so gonna be bullied and she’s not helping._ Jimmy thought to himself.

To his surprise, his classmates began to applaud, the longer it dragged on, the further Robert sunk into his chair.

So, Mrs. Whitley decided it was time to move on to the second textbook (and honestly Jimmy had no idea they were doing two—who wrote this fucking syllabus?), Richard III— how the fuck did three Richards tie in to his studies? She was droning on about good versus evil (wait, _three_ evil clones of Richard?) when Jimmy's eyes begun to get heavy.

Apparently he slept through whatever else she had to say and came to with Bonzo shaking him roughly, waking him from his dream of three different Jimmy’s.

"Ah, Jimmy." Mrs. Whitley was gazing at him from behind her desk, looking faintly amused. "I see you're back with us. See me after class, you too Robert."

Robert glanced over his shoulder at Jimmy whose dark hair was sticking in every direction, he couldn’t help smiling. “You think we’re in trouble?”

The brunette blinked sleepily at him, sluggish brain trying to absorb the fact that a literal angel in all its golden glory was attempting to communicate with him. He opened his mouth to ask as much when a meaty paw was pressed over it.

“I doubt it.” Bonzo saved the day once again. Jimmy would have to thank him for that later, just as soon as he got the stench of peanut butter out his nose.

So that’s how he wound up staring at his sneakers while standing next to Robert before her desk.

“Jimmy, I'm sure you're aware you got the lowest grade in the class." She said calmly, hands resting flat against the desk.

Robert shot him a confused glance and Jimmy averted his gaze—ah yes, it always came back to bite him in the ass. "Yup."

She sighed, looking heavenwards. "And Robert got the highest."

"You made that clear." Maybe he was being a _bit_ bitchy to hide his mortification, but that was his own business.

She looked ready to maul him at any second, dragging in a shuddering breath, she continued. "So that gave me an idea, maybe Robert could tutor you, help you out with literature and—"

"That really won't be necessary." Robert looked a bit miffed, but Jimmy didn't care. He didn’t need anyone’s pity.

"Really Jimmy?" She leaned back in her chair, "You fail this class and you can’t graduate. You’ll probably have to re-sit the exam, which means class in summer."

That wasn't fair damnit, he had plans for summer, he was gonna start a fucking band and never lay eyes on this town again. "I did _way_ better than normal." He whined. “I mean, didn’t I get zero that one time.”

"Sixty-eight really isn't much of a huge improvement."

Heat flared in his cheeks at the sound of his shitty grade out loud. "But—"

"It's up to you, Jimmy." She raised her hands in surrender. "I'm sure you realise your grade this year will affect what college you get into."

He wondered if she realised he had absolutely no plans to go to college. "I don’t give a shit." He hissed and stalked out without another word, slamming the door behind him leaving a concerned Robert staring at his back.

\---------------

Robert wasn't sure what he had done to piss Jimmy off, but the boy was avoiding him at every turn. He'd seen Jimmy in the halls earlier and raised his hand to say hi, the brunette shot him a furtive glance and made an abrupt U-turn.

He had been here for about three days and already managed to piss off the hottest guy in school.

"Way to go, Plant." He muttered to himself as he ate lunch alone again. He could see Jimmy a ways off, talking animatedly to the big guy, John, he sat next to in class. Robert fiddled with strands his hair, "Screw that. I don't care if he hates me."

“If who hates you?” The blonde almost jumped at the sound of that voice. Now he noticed the slender boy standing next to his table, smiling faintly at him. Robert could appreciate his straight black hair that fell unto his shoulders, not to mention his captivating grey eyes. “Ah, I see you’ve met Page.”

Fuck. He’d been caught. “Page?” He squeaked, a dead giveaway. Waving a giant sign saying ‘I was totally talking about Jimmy’ over his head would have had a similar effect.

The boy laughed, “Yeah, Jimmy. Cute accent by the way.” He sat across from Robert, still smiling amicably. “My name’s Carlos.”

“Hi.” Robert tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “I’m Robert Plant.”

Carlos wrinkled his nose, “Gosh, even your _name_ is adorable.”

He had no idea how to respond to that, so he lowered his eyes to his half-eaten food and kept quiet. God, Americans were weird.

“Anyway, you shouldn’t worry about Jimmy.” Robert started to wonder if the smile was glued unto his face, it was getting a little creepy. “He’s an asshole, don’t let him get to you.”

“Oh no, he was really nice to me all along.” He twirled his fork, wrapping the noodles around it in the process. He didn’t feel hungry anymore. “I just… I’m supposed to tutor him, but he’s avoiding me. I don’t think he’s even mad at _me_ , maybe just the teacher, she kinda embarrassed h—”

Carlos’ laugh was cold and unfriendly, “Yeah he’s nice to you. He’s nice till he gets what he wants, which usually includes fucking you then ignoring you the next day. That’s how he works, thinks his money can get him whatever he wants. So… did he fuck you?”

Robert’s mouth closed with an audible clack. Jimmy wasn’t like that… Wait, was he? “I don’t think he’s like that…” But even as he said it, doubt reared its head.

“Yeah, you won’t.” The brunette smiled again, flashing his dimples, and Robert is taken by how quickly his moods change. “You won’t think he’s like that till you realize that he’s incapable of fucking emotion—”

“What are you doing?” Jimmy loomed over Carlos, voice dripping distaste, the blonde flinched. “Move.”

“Oh, James!” Carlos exclaimed, “I was just telling Robert about you.”

“Move.” He repeated, face devoid of emotion.

“See you around, Jimbo.” Carlos looked pointedly at Robert then back at Jimmy, flashing a final smile.

Jimmy narrowed his eyes, “I really hope not.”

What was that about?

Robert swallowed hard as Carlos grabbed his tray and walked off without another word, leaving him squirming in his seat and avoiding Jimmy’s gaze.

“Come eat with us.” Jimmy commanded, because it really wasn’t much of a question, before walking off.

The blonde hated how quickly he sprung to his feet and followed, but hey, he’d follow that ass anywhere.

Lunch with Jimmy wasn’t what he expected, for one, the brunette ignored him through the whole thing (if it wasn’t for John and Bonzo entertaining him, the whole thing would have been a disaster). Secondly, Jimmy ate a lot of sweet things, was that healthy? Half of the time, he was bent over some sort of cake or pastry.

Robert liked to think that he lived up to expectations. He didn’t want to disappoint his mother who repeatedly lamented that he didn’t have an _ounce_ of self-preservation, so as soon as the bell went, he followed hot on Jimmy’s heels. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

“What do you mean?” He shot back, “I’m talking to you right now.”

He stumbled, a bit thrown by Jimmy’s reply. He expected Jimmy to lose him in the winding hallways and carry on pretending he didn’t exist. “You avoided me all day”

“That’s silly, we’re together right now.” They were almost the same height but Robert had to struggle to match his stride.

“I meant _before_.” He whined, a bit frustrated. He was eighteen, not twelve, but Lord knows he’d throw a tantrum if he needed to.

“Don’t focus on the past. We’re living in the present. Thought hippies like you were all about that.” Jimmy drawled, smug satisfaction evident in his tone

He was infuriated at the giggle that forced its way out of him. Enough was enough. Lightning quick, he grabbed Jimmy’s shoulder and whirled him around, forcing those dark eyes to meet his. “Why don’t you want me to tutor you?”

“I don’t need a tutor.” He hissed, shrugging him off.

 _Uh, yeah. You kinda do_. “I’d _love_ to help you.”

“I’m sure you would, Goldie.” Robert blinked rapidly at the nickname, a bit flattered. “But if I wanted a tutor, I’d hire one. Didn’t your new friend Carlos tell you that?” Ah, _that’s_ where all the extra anger was coming from. The blonde couldn’t tell if tall, dark and handsome was mad, or jealous. Especially not now that Jimmy was turning away and walking off.

“We’re _not_ friends.” He blurted, and that got him to stop.

The brunette sighed, shoulders slumping. “Good, cause he’s an asshole.”

_Funny, that was exactly what he said about you._

Robert internally did a little dance, fighting the smile tugging at his lips. “So uhm, will you let me help you? With Literature?” _And everything else, like getting you out of those pants?_

Jimmy snorted and rolled his eyes like he had access to Robert’s thoughts. “I’ll find you if I need your help, Goldie, since you wanna spend time with me so badly.”

“Hey, that’s not why—”

“You shouldn’t be late for your classes.” He interjected, smirking devilishly and Robert had to look away for a minute to calm his heart. “You’re supposed to be the good guy.”

“And where are you going?” He asked, swallowing. “Don’t _you_ have class?”

“Maybe.” Jimmy chuckled, “But my baby’s waiting for me in the music room.”

Robert’s stomach dropped, and judging by Jimmy’s worried expression, so did his face. He squeezed his books tighter in his grasp and mentally berated himself, just what the fuck did he expect?

“My guitar.” The brunette added quickly. “My baby’s my guitar.”

Yeah, he felt stupider than he had in years. “Oh.” He managed to croak, feeling a lot less panicked. “You shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

“I won’t, Goldie.” He smiled softly, and Robert’s breath hitched. “Get to class.”


	3. The Spectacularly Bad Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert swore he had this all figured out...

Goldie cornered him in the music room the following week, scowling at him like he had ran over his dog or kicked his baby sister. Or kicked his baby sister while running over his dog.

“I didn’t do it.” He said on instinct, lowering his Gibson warily.

Robert lagged for a while before the scowl was in its original place, stronger than ever. “Damn right you didn’t. I thought you’d come to me when you needed help.”

“I will.” Looked like his alone time with Les Paul was over. Sighing deeply, he got around to putting her back in her case. “I just... I’ve been busy.” He wished Bonzo was here to back him up, but the fucker was doing uncool shit like studying or attending classes and what not. Loser.

“Busy skipping classes?” Robert hissed, frowning so hard Jimmy became concerned his face would freeze that way. “You didn’t even give in your essay, that’s a zero, wiseguy.” The blonde leaned against the door, one hand closed around the knob—exit successfully blocked. The fucker was kinda on the tall side.

The brunette sighed, left with no choice. He sidled closer to Robert, lowering his gaze while gently biting his lower lip. “The truth is… God, Rob, I don’t know how to say this.”

Robert relaxed his grip on the door, leaning closer, so close he could see Jimmy’s dark lashes curl upwards. Bad. This was bad. “What? Jimmy, what is it?”

Jimmy sighed theatrically, fingers gently brushing against Robert’s worn blue jeans. “I’ve just had a lot going on recently…” He peered up at the blonde’s face to see how this all was working out. Robert’s face closed off quicker than Bonzo’s when any form of exercise was suggested.

“You fucker.” Robert said, with feeling. “You absolute _wanker_.” His grip on the doorknob tightened. He might be a little ashamed he fucking slipped, if only for a second.

“Just get outta my way.” Jimmy huffed, cover completely blown. For a second he thought Goldie was falling for it. “I gotta get to class.” Plain bullshit and they both knew it.

“No.” Robert snapped. “I’ll only let you go if you agree to spend at least half an hour after school going through the play.”

What fucking play? “Thirty minutes is a mighty long time, Goldie.” He pointed out, panicking. That was guitar time. Precious, precious guitar time. Time he won’t have his girl purring beneath his hands.

Robert stared at him for a while longer before throwing up his free hand. “Ok, listen. You can bring the guitar, we go to my house and we fucking study for a while. How does that sound?”

Jimmy hesitated, weighing the pros and cons. On the upside, Les Paul and Robert in his natural habitat. On the flipside, books. Not to mention, Literature books. To top it all off, _old_ Literature books. But Robert, at home, with his hair down (ridiculous, it was always down)—ok, with his hair up, maybe an apron and nothing else. “Ok fine. Please stop holding me hostage.”

Robert’s hand was barely off the handle before Jimmy was dashing out without a backwards glance. Finally alone, the blonde allowed himself to freak, Jimmy had been within kissing distance of him. God, he looked even better up close, and his curls were just screaming at Robert—‘touch us, touch us!—he deserved a medal for his stellar self control.

That was around the time it sunk it. Jimmy. At his house. Jimmy Page was going home with home… while his mom was home. The mom he spent all of last week ranting to about ‘the hot guy at school’. “Jesus Christ.”

\-------

Jimmy managed to convince Bonzo to skip English class and have a smoke with him behind the school. The man had muttered and bitched about Jimmy being a bad influence, but had hauled ass willingly enough. The way to Bonzo’s heart was cigarettes and beers.

“I’m going home with Robert today.” He said after a long drag of his cigarette.

Bonzo stilled, “That quick? Jeez, I though the kid had a little backbone and—”

“Oh shut up.” He snapped, because as much as he’d like into Robert’s too-tight pants, he highly doubted he was up to standard. He probably was straighter than a nun’s ruler—not that that had ever stopped him before. “We’re going to study.”

Bonzo choked on his smoke, eyes watering. “I’m sorry?” He breathed, staring at Jimmy, eyes comically wide. “Did you just say study? You? You’re going to study?”

“Har-di-har. Laugh it up while you can. Pretty soon you’ll be dying from lung cancer.”

The man ignored the jab at his love of cigarettes. “So you’re going to study? No funny business?”

“No funny business.” He echoed, shuddering in revulsion. He was actually going to study. But if push came to shove, he could always just study Robert’s ass. “He cornered me in the music room.”

His friend threw his head back and laughed, loud enough to get them discovered. “I like him. Won’t take none of your bullshitting. I’m betting you tried to Page your way out of it.” A term they used to describe Jimmy either trying to:

  1. Flirt his way out of his problems (that one had never failed until now)
  2. Magic his way out of his problems (he rarely turned to that one anymore, not since _the incident_ )



“I did.” He mumbled, “It didn’t work.”

If the fucker laughed any harder, someone would actually find them, and that would mean another suspension on his already fucked up file. “He shot you down? The Jimmy Page got shot down. I’m giving Robert a cookie next time I see him.”

These were the moments in which Jimmy sincerely preferred Jonesy.

\---------

Robert was pleasantly surprised when John waved him over to their table during lunch, and he quickly made his way over to them grinning widely. “Hello chaps.”

“You didn’t just say that.” Jimmy groaned into his cake. “Please tell me you didn’t just use that word.”

“What?” He sat next to Jimmy, because for some reason John had decided to throw his leg over the available space next to him. “Hello?”

John chuckled, elbowing Bonzo.

 _“Chaps,_ Goldie.” He intoned, trying to look intimidating with bits of cake on his fail. He failed even more that he failed that test. “Chaps. We don’t say that here.”

Robert rolled his eyes, already getting used to Jimmy and his drama.“Well I just did, and I’m here.” Carlos caught his eye from across the room, but the boy was making no move to approach him. Robert couldn’t help thinking of his warning… He glanced at Jimmy, the idiot was making obnoxious noises while eating cheesecake. He really couldn’t imagine Jimmy being anything but Jimmy.

“So, you’re taking Jimmy home with you today?” Bonzo asked, trying to control the laughter trying to spill out.

“Uhm yeah,” And yes, maybe he was a bit slow to react because the man in question was now licking icing off his fingers with little flicks of his sinfully pink tongue. Robert cleared his throat. “Well, just for a while, to study a bit.”

“No one has been able to get him to study anything but the dark arts.”

Robert’s fork abandoned its journey to his plate halfway. “Dark arts?”

Jimmy’s head snapped up, eyes impossibly darker. “Yes…” He said broodingly, steepling his fingers under his chin. “The Dark Arts. The _Darkest_ of arts. Are you sure you want a sorcerer in your house?”

That set Robert off and he was clutching at the table, laughing harder than he ever had in a while. Jimmy blinked at him, still in his ridiculous position, dark curls tangling in a wild frame for his face. Robert hiccupped and laughed even harder at his perplexed expression, mostly at the bit of icing at the corner of his lips. “Oh sweetie,” He used his napkin to dab at the brunette’s lips. “It’s hard to intimidate me while you’re pigging out on cake. Besides, I’m not scared of a little magic, I’m magical myself.”

Jimmy swore he fell in love a little bit, who cared if was to the abrasive sounds of Bonzo and Jonesy practically falling over each other while laughing. He was definitely making Robert his. The blonde cocked his head, completely clueless to Jimmy’s possessive thoughts. “You alright?”

“Better than I’ve ever been.”

Robert’s green eyes were alight with mischief. “Good, I need you at your best.” He paused. “So we can...er _study_ harder of course.”

Jonesy gagged, “Guys please, no flirting where we eat.”

Robert blushed, ducking his head and tucking his hair behind his ears—the way he always did when he felt flustered. “I don’t… know what you mean.”

Jimmy was going to eat him alive.

\----------

Robert was about half way to the school gate when he realized Jimmy wasn’t following him. “What are you doing?”

The brunette stared at him in confusion, switching his guitar case to his left hand. “What are you doing?”

“Uhm… walking home.” Now he was getting confused. “You  know, you move your legs and it helps you get from point A to point B, innit?”

“You’re walking. Walking?” He whined, squinting up at the sun then back at Robert who was still staring at him like he sprouted another head.

“Well, it’s not far away. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes—”

“I’m not walking.” He pulled out the shiniest phone Robert had ever laid eyes on, scrolled for a bit before holding it up to his ear. “Phil? Can you pick me up right now please? Yeah, I didn’t drive today. Just need a ride to a friend’s.”

“Who did you call?”

“Someone to come get us.”

Okay, Carlos was right about the money part but that didn’t mean he had to right about everything, right? ‘Right’ was starting to sound odd in Robert’s head. What felt like a few seconds later, Jimmy was ushering him into a sleek, black BMW and muttering a greeting to the man behind the wheel.

“Uh… Good evening, Mr. Page.” Robert stuttered, shivering at how cold the AC was.

Jimmy snorted, “He’s not my dad, man.”

It might’ve been a mistake, but Jimmy sounded pretty sad about it. “Oh, I just thought…”

“Well you _thought_ wrong.” He sniped, and the whole drive home was filled with a heavy silence. Robert felt just a bit unsure whether he should’ve invited Jimmy home or not, just a few minutes alone and he had already screwed something that felt important up. And then there was the issue of his mother.

God, this wasn’t his smartest plan.

Once they had arrived, Jimmy’s mood seemed to lighten while looking at the quaint little house. Robert had loved it when he first saw it, the splash of colorful flowers dotting both sides of the driveway leading to the house, the large weeping willow and the sounds it made once the wind danced through it. He liked to think everything about it was magical, and once he was walking home, he was entering a different plane, if existed in its own world.

“It’s so weird here.” Jimmy murmured, breaking the spell. Robert’s face fell before he quietly added “I kinda like it.”

Robert was halfway through smiling like an idiot when his mother threw open the screen door and marched unto the porch. “Robert, is that you? With a friend?” She called, voice somehow very strong for such a little lady. “I saw the car, but I just wasn’t sure…” Her hair was dark and curly, pinned back from her oval-shaped face. Annie was unlike Robert in almost every way, her cheekbones were high, her eyes dark where his were green and her thin lips turned upwards as if she was always on the cusp of a smile. Actually, her dark hair and eyes reminded him a lot of Jimmy. Except Jimmy was a bit of an asshole—but Annie was about to prove she could be one as well.

“Yes mother, it’s me.” He sighed, sensing the embarrassment the evening had in store for him from a mile away. “This is my friend Jimmy, he’s here to study.”

Jimmy was more or less hiding behind the blonde, but at the mention of his name he peered around him. “Hello, Ma’am.”

Her mouth made a little oh, “Oh Percy, he’s so _pretty_.” Ah yes, Jimmy liked her. “Is this the Jimmy you were talking about? The one that sho—”

Jimmy grinned, a bit pleased. “You were talking about me?” He was really taking a liking to the small lady. “He does that a lot, eh?”

“Nonstop.” She intoned, smothering a laugh when her son ducked his head to hide a blush.

“Mother, _please_.” He groaned, dragging a palm over his burning hot cheeks. “Can we just go inside?”

“Oh sure thing, come on then.”

This was a _spectacularly_ bad idea. He’d regret it later. But for now, Jimmy Page was in his house.


	4. Calculated Decisions

Mrs. Plant was about as talkative as you'd expect, except she was actually quite interesting to listen to. She led them inside, spewing an endless stream of chatter about anything and everything —the inside was almost the same as the outside. Cozy and colourful, not unlike something out of a fairy-tale, a bit cluttered with figurines and pictures but overall homely.

"Yes, here's Percy at five." She waved her hand at one of the many picture frames adorning the wall. Robert's heartfelt groan of embarrassment encouraged Jimmy to take a closer look.

He wasn't disappointed.

Robert was teetering on the bank of a river, looking not a day past four or so, tiny mouth hanging open in delight, or a shriek of excitement. _Completely_ naked. “He’s naked.” He pointed out, just to hear Robert groan, clearly embarrassed.

"Mhm, he hated his clothes. Refused to wear them around the house since he was no more than a toddler. The obsession with swimming was since then too." Robert wondered if it would be considered rude to drop dead right there. Jimmy was grinning deviously, which was totally scary and not at all sexy, probably scheming something vile. "We'd dress him and soon enough there'd be a trail of his clothes behind him and he was off splashing in the bathtub or a puddle."

The brunette turned to look at him, expression unreadable. "Hmm... What a pity he's changed." He meant that. Because he can damn well tell that he has changed, Robert's jeans did an absolutely good job if revealing everything. Even now as he stood there, shifting around uncomfortably, hunched over like he was trying to make himself smaller, Jimmy could make out the line of his cock— his poor jeans were struggling. Jimmy would love to help them out.

She snorted, "Oh no. He's _still_ like that, waltzes around the house in next to nothing. If it weren't just the two of us—"

" _Mother_." His hands are shaking a bit and his reflection in the glass proved he was way past red in the face. "We _really_ should study."

"Oh yes." She glanced at them both, eyes lighting up. "Well I'll make you something to eat. You _are_ staying with us for dinner Jimmy? Or should I call you James?" She really hadn't phrased it like much of a question.

No. It was on the tip of his tongue, followed closely by some bullshit excuse. But the memory of his empty house struck the words from his mouth, and he helplessly blurted: "Sure why not. Jimmy is fine, by the way." His father was the only one who called him _James_ , always managing to inject the expected amount of disdain into that one word.

Robert didn't even bother to hide his pleasure. "More time to study then, come on." _Oh shit, did I clean my room? Wait. Is my bed even made?_

Jimmy silently trailed him up the stairs, not even trying to hide how hard he was studying Robert's ass. Studying was fucking great. But seriously, it was great. So great he had to dig his nails into his palm to resist doing something obnoxious like slapping, or groping, or spre—

"So, uhm, I know it's not the tidiest right now but you know." Robert rubbed his neck sheepishly, looking down at his feet.

Jimmy snorted and brushed pass him. "Don't worry about it, Goldie. Let's just get the torture over with."

Robert's heart was racing, because Jimmy had dropped his guitar (gently of course), knapsack and his fine self on Robert's bed like he belonged there. He wondered if the bed would smell of whatever expensive cologne he was wearing.

"Yeah, OK, sure."

The sound of the door clicking shut had an air of finality. He was trapped in here with the object of his desires for at least an hour.

\-----

“Do you think Jimmy’s for real this time?” Bonzo mused, running his fingers through Jonsey’s dark hair.

“Are you thinking of Jimmy while I’m trying to suck your dick?” He grumbled, fingers stilling on Bonzo’s zipper.

“I mean, it’s been like two weeks.” He continued, blinking up at his ceiling. “ _Two_. And he hasn’t dragged him to bed yet.”

John rolled his eyes, shifting till he was straddling Bonzo’s hips, hands splayed on his chest. “Are you doing that thing where you hear whatever you want to?”

“He’s _studying_ , John.” Yes, it seemed so. It was infuriating how Bonzo could stare right in his eyes and never hear a single word he said. “I’ve never seen him study _anything_. He hasn’t tried to shove his hands into Robert’s pants and he sure as hell hasn’t shunned him.”

John gave up. “Yeah, Robert doesn’t seem like the type to let him get away with the shit he usually does anyway. And I don’t see Jimmy treating him like the others.”

“You know what this means right?” Bonzo jerked up, unseating John in the process. Oh God, no. That gleam in his eye was very familiar, and that could only mean one thing. “He _likes_ him. We’ve gotta help.”

“We’re _not_ pranking them.” John insisted, and as expected, Bonzo just stared at him, grinning madly. Pranks were his idea of ‘helping someone out’.

“We’re _so_ pranking them.” Oh God, he could see it now. Jimmy had realized he couldn’t Page his way into Robert’s pants and was pretending he didn’t care. Robert was… well Rob was making eyes at Jimmy like no one Bonzo had ever seen. He’d fucking lock them in a closet together if he had to.

“John…” Jonsey injected to required amount of warning in his tone, though he knew damn well that wasn’t about to do shit.

“Yes, _John_?” Bonzo fluttered his lashes, attempt at innocent ruined by the impish grin plastered to his face.

“Just be careful, and _no_ eggs.”

“That was one time—”

“Did I stutter?”

Bonzo grumbled but nodded nonetheless, he would get those two proper with or without eggs. It was so convenient that Jimmy’s parents happened to be out of town this weekend, this was gonna be his best prank yet.

And also the best party.

\----

Robert bit the corner of his mouth, fist clenched. He shifted in the couch trying to get comfortable before starting again. “Jimmy, it isn’t that hard—”

“Boring.”

“It’s a _magnificent_ play, well written and still relevant to—”

The brunette wrinkled his nose, eyeing the book like it offended him. “Who even fucking _talks_ like this?”

“English people.” He snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. Getting the fucker here was one thing, getting him to stop being difficult? Fucking impossible.

He looked Robert dead in the eyes and grinned. “They’re _lame_.”

Jimmy watched Robert sigh deeply, squeezing his eyes shut and try to calm himself. Yes, he was doing it on purpose, but getting Goldie worked up was by far the most entertaining part of this agreement. “You okay, Goldie?”

Robert hummed, sucking in another breath before trying a different approach. “Think of the most despicable, _shitty_ , cuntish asshole you’ve ever known.”

Woah, did Goldie just _swear_? Jimmy liked knowing he was really getting to him after all. “And what?”

“No seriously, think up a name. The person you hate most and probably want to strangle.” Robert said, smiling sweetly. “At this current moment, for me, it’s _you_. Who did you think of…?”

“Carlos.” Jimmy intoned, face carefully blank.

Robert hesitated for a while before continuing, he’d screwed enough up today. “Uhm, oh. Well, yeah, he’s Richard III.”

Jimmy nodded, lips pinched together still.

“Well then, imagine the purest, goody-goody person you know. And I do mean pure, does the right thing—”

“Easy, _you_.” Robert’s insides turned into a gooey mess at the slow smile stretching the brunette’s lips.

He could feel his face heating at an alarming rate, the comparison he was trying to make long forgotten. “Well, I-I’m not so sure about that. Me? I’m not _that_ good.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Well, that person would be Richmond.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen…” Jimmy pointedly dragged his dark eyes over Robert’s form. “Yeah, you’re _all_ good.” The brunette took advantage of Robert’s stunned silence and slipped off the bed, relocating to the couch—much closer to the blonde.

Robert brought the book up to his face to hide his blush, green eyes peering at Jimmy over the top of it. “Why’d you move closer?”

“Don’t you want me to?” Jimmy asked, shifting even closer, thigh pressing against Robert’s.

“Well I…” Damn it, he needed a witty comeback, not radio silence. Once again he found himself wondering why this struck him as a good idea. The door was fucking locked for goodness sake, and Jimmy was looking at him in a totally dangerous, not at all hot, way.

Jimmy looked at him long and hard, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You’re quite the looker, ya know?”

Game, set, match. He was caught. Goldie lowered the book, slender hands shaking slightly. “Really?” He asked, voice filled with disbelief.

“Whadda'ya mean? This can’t be the first time you’re hearing that.” And Jimmy suddenly felt a jolt of annoyance rush through him, because why not? Were people blind? “Your girlfriends must drool over you.”

Robert shifted, “Well. I’m gay—” Jimmy internally broke into his happy dance but did his best to keep his expression blank “—and I’ve never got around to dating or...” The blonde broke off, frowning softly. He had no idea why he shared that bit of information, now Jimmy probably thought he was inexperienced—which, yes, he was—and dorky.

Jimmy briefly considered dragging him over to the bed and changing that. But his mom was downstairs and that would be a _very_ awkward conversation. Besides, he wasn’t even sure Goldie would allow him to (or if he could keep quiet).

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Robert mumbled, heart racing in his chest as Jimmy leaned closer. Close enough for Robert to admire his eyes, the faint freckles on his face.

“I’m wondering…”

“Do you have to _wonder_ up close?” He tried to joke. “I mean, the only thing you’re supposed to be wondering about is Gloucester’s evil plan to rule all of England—”

“’m wondering if you’d let me kiss you.” The brunette continued as if Robert hadn’t spoken, a little smile playing on his lips. “How about it, Goldie? Reward for all this _studying_.” He still talked about ‘studying’ as if it had insulted his mother.

“We’re only at Act Two.” He stuttered, eyes flicking to Jimmy’s lips, maybe just this once, right?

“Incentive to make it to Act Three.” Jimmy countered, playing with the curls at the base of Robert’s neck. Just this once, and he’d get it out of his system—this little, whatever this was, would prove to be not that great and he’d go back to fucking whoever he wanted without thinking about golden curls and shy smiles every time he closed his eyes.

And Robert, a great orator, was only able to come up with: “Uh…” But to be fair, Jimmy’s fingers in his hair was really distracting and how the fuck did he know he liked being petted (that’s basically what he was doing, right?). “If it’ll get you to study…”

Easy-peasy. “Atta boy.” That was all the permission he needed to pull Robert closer and licking into his mouth because this wasn’t supposed to be gentle—he just wanted it _over_ with, he was proving a point goddamn it! At least, that was what it was supposed to be, but Goldie had to ruin his plans by relaxing, making a pleased little sound—needless to say Jimmy forgot all about his goals. He was trying not to focus on anything but getting over it, but now his mind was blank—there was nothing else but Robert. His taste, how this was way more than he expected, how soft his lips were, how clumsy he was (but he was learning fast), how his hands were pressing against Jimmy’s chest, and _oh_ —he was pushing him _away_. That was new.

“Oh _God_.” Robert breathed, trying to calm himself a bit. He was sure he heard something, it sounded distant when all he was focused on was Jimmy, but now, he could hear it better.

“ _Robert_! Jimmy!” There was a knock at the door, “I’ve been calling _forever_.”

Ah. Apparently other people existed, not just him and Robert (though he’d like for it to be)--disappointing.

“Uhm. Yes, we’re here—” Robert used to be able to make sentences, once upon a time. Right now, he wasn’t even _breathing_ right, staring at Jimmy with wide green eyes and licking his lips instinctively, fuck, he could still taste— “Sorry.”

It shouldn’t piss Jimmy off that the fucker managed to look so good, dishevelled and a bit out of it. But it did, and his plan didn’t work.

“ _Dinner_.” She huffed a little laugh, “Shakespeare was never that interesting in my day.” Next time, she was ensuring they left the door open. What was she thinking?

Robert nodded, almost to himself. “Uh… yes? Yes. Dinner.” Jimmy started laughing, eyes going all crinkly and weird and— _fuck_ —his face was so stupid(ly handsome). He waited till he heard his mother’s heels clicking away before punching him as hard as he could (not very hard). “You asshole!”

Jimmy raised his brows, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “Me? Uh...? Yes? Uhm? _Dinner_.” He drawled, imitating the blond almost perfectly. “Come at me when you can make sentences.” He stood up, smoothing over his shirt while trying to hide just how shaken he was before leaving Robert gawping at the back of his head.

“You ASS!” A horrible comeback maybe, but he was better when his brain was working. He could hear Jimmy laughing as he went down the stairs and Robert vowed was _never_ going to kiss him again.

_Or, I could never stop kissing him, so I get what I went and he wouldn’t be able to laugh at me._

He was a fucking _genius_.

\----

Jimmy paused on the stairs, halfway down and rested his head on the cool wall. He could hear Mrs. Plant bustling around the kitchen and Robert—well, fussing with his books. This was a bad fucking idea, actually, he should just head home now, before it got worse. There was no way he was going to survive sitting across from Robert while his mother told him stories about her baby and not _feel_.

Feelings were annoying and he didn’t do them anymore.

The kiss was supposed to be a “calculated decision”, kiss him, get over it, move on. Jimmy had been so busy worrying about passing Literature he forgot he was failing Math too.

Calculations were never his strong point.

Damn it all to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead, my brain just wasn't working.  
> I'm not abandoning this, pinkie swear.


	5. The List

Once again, Robert found himself on the wrong side of Jimmy’s bitch face. He’d really though the whole ‘study date’ thing had brought them closer (especially the part where they enthusiastically swapped spit), but Jimmy had remained worryingly quiet through all of dinner and wasted no time fleeing once through (even after his mum offered to embarrass him further for Jimmy’s entertainment).

That wasn’t the worst of it.

Jimmy was ignoring him again and Robert was seriously freaking out about it. Was he a bad kisser, because it didn’t feel like a bad kiss. Not that he’d know or anything since he had all the experience of a toaster.

“John.”

“Uhh…” Bonzo stuffed a list he was carrying in his pocket, looking so guilty Robert faltered for a while. “Hey Plant.”

The blond narrowed his eyes. “What’s that?”

Bonzo propped his shoulder awkwardly against his locker, aiming for casual and missing it by a mile. “What’s what?”

“That piece of paper you had.” No amount of awkward throat clearing was going to derail his line of questioning.

“A list.”

“A list of _what_?”

“Things…”

Robert snorted, “Ok whatever. Is Jimmy avoiding me?” What he meant was ‘why is your asshole friend giving me such a wide berth all of a sudden?’

“Is he?” Bonzo asked, sounded sincere for the first time this conversation started. “I don’t know, I’ve been avoiding him.”

“ _Why_?” Was avoidance just an American thing?

“Things…” Because he was planning a super epic party and Jimmy would know by taking just one look at him with those freaky laser eyes of his. “Unrelated to the list of course.”

The blond stifled a laugh, “Right, okay. You have a good day now.”

“I will.” And he would, especially if the pool at Jimmy’s was still in working order. He would only have to figure out how to casually slip that question into a conversation—or ask Jonesy to do it (no one ever suspected someone as innocent looking as that).

The brunette walked off muttering to himself, so Robert decided to grab the bull by its horns.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the first session.

Maybe after Math.

\----

“Are you avoiding me?” Robert asked Jimmy, inviting himself to their table at lunch. As expected, the brunette just stared holes into his chocolate cake (seriously, he needed to lay off the sweets). “Pagey…” Well _that_ got a reaction.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Jimmy snapped, jamming his fork into the cake with way more force than needed.

Jonesy didn’t take kindly to that, scowling over at Jimmy. “James Page, I raised you better than this. Don’t be fucking rude.”

“Where’s Bonzo?” No, Jimmy was _not_ acknowledging either one of those sentences at the moment. Yes, this was a completely logical way to deal with problems.

“Not here.” Jonesy’s lips twitched. “Hey, you didn’t drain the pool did you? You threatened to the last time you fell in.”

“No.” Now that was a suspicious question if he’d ever heard one. “Why?”

Jonesy shrugged and continued pushing his food around. “Nothing.”

Robert tried a different approach, if Page wouldn’t talk to him, he’d just talk about him right in front of his face. “Why would he drain the pool?” The excitement in his voice wasn’t faked, having a pool at home would be great, he’d never leave the water.

“He can’t swim.” Jonesy blurted before Jimmy could stare him into submission. “Plus he kept falling in while drunk and freaking out.” The last time they all came over for drinks, Jimmy had fell into the pool and woke the whole neighborhood flailing and screaming. He was really only in the 3ft section.

The blond nearly choked on his drink, “He can’t _what_?”

“Not everyone is a regular little mermaid, Goldie.” Jimmy sniped, and maybe it wasn’t the words he wanted to hear but hey, Jimmy was talking to him again.

“I _love_ swimming.” Robert enthused, and Jimmy couldn’t help smile a bit as his ridiculously happy expression.

 Robert’s pulse quickened. He didn’t seem angry or anything like that, maybe—

“Yeah, your mom made that clear.” Jimmy said, before clamming up abruptly. The table descended into an uncomfortable silence (which Robert couldn’t understand because Jesus did his mom scare Jimmy off or something?).

Robert dropped his fork, huffing in irritation. “Listen, we need to—”

“I’ve gotta get to class.” Jimmy mumbled, springing to his feet, leaving his unfinished lunch. It would have been funny if Robert wasn’t slightly hurt—he left his _cake_ (this was serious then).

“It’s lunch time!” The blond yelled at his back, the brunette gave no indication he heard.

Jonesy whistled. “Woah, what happened? The studying thing didn’t go well.”

Robert flushed, fidgeting a bit. “It was fine.”

“Huh.” Jonesy tilted his head, blinking at the blond.“How fine?”

Well, it wasn’t like Jonesy was gonna _tell_ anyone and it wasn’t like he had anyone else to tell. “Well it was going good until Act II…”

The brunette listened raptly, frown becoming more pronounced with each word Robert uttered. By the time he was through, Jonesy was caught between laughing and screaming at Jimmy’s head. “I apologize on his behalf. Don’t sweat it.” There was no way he was allowing him to screw this up.

Bonzo was right, they’d have to get involved afterall.

“I mean, did I do anything wrong—”

“No, he’s just an idiot.” Jonsey hummed, “Hey, are you free tonight?”

\-----

Jimmy allowed himself to be forced into the back of Bonzo’s old truck, took one look at Robert (who was beaming in that stupid hippie way of his) and attempted to climb back out.

“Uh uh, not so fast.” Bonzo shoved his seat back, trapping Jimmy’s long legs. “We’re having a group bonding.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, it’s crowded in here.” He whined, and it smelled of tacos of some sort, why couldn’t they just kidnap him in his own car? It was way more spacious.

“The closer we are, the better the bonding will be. Right, Plant?”

“Right.” The blond said decisively, shoulders pressed against Jimmy’s. The brunette was wearing a most impressive scowl, fidgeting a bit (which only served to squish them even closer together. “Where are we going anyway?” He asked when Bonzo finally coaxed his engine to start again.

“Shopping.” Jonesy chirped, “For things.”

Page sighed, the fight finally draining out of him. “Please tell me we’re not going to the liquor store.”

“We’re not going to the liquor store.” Bonzo intoned.

“Did you say that because I asked?” The more Bonzo dodged his questions and avoided him, the more it became apparent they were plotting something.

“Yes.”

This was all very exciting for Robert, and his face was practically squished against the small window as he tried to take in everything at once. “How will you buy liquor if you’re underage.”

Jimmy laughed, but not unkindly. “Two words, Goldie, Fake ID.” He jabbed his knees into the back of Bonzo’s seat out of pure spite. “What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing special.”

“Whatever, don’t tell me. But I’m not leaving the van.” He growled, trying to ignore the excited little sounds Robert was making to his left. What was so special about a Wisconsin anyway?

“You’ve gotta come, you’re our wildcard.”

“I’m not setting foot in there.” Jimmy did not have the fondest of memories of that store, it was far away enough from their home town that no one really knew them—but fucking Morgan. “Not again.”

“What happened? He got in trouble.”

“In a manner of speaking.” Jonesy said, voice filled with mirth. Pissing Jimmy off more than he will be when he found out they were throwing a party at his house just would not do. “Morgan has a bit of a thing for him.”

Jimmy’s pained groan only encouraged him to go on. “Who is she?” Bonzo was accelerating to what was definitely an illegal speed. God, he couldn’t die in America. It would cost too much to get his body back home.

“ _He_ is the owner.” Bonzo filled in. “And he is very much in love with Jimbo here—”

Another kick to the back of Bonzo’s seat only served to make him talk louder. “Shut up!”

“—and living proof of why it is _not_ okay to try to magic your way out of things.”

Robert huffed a little laugh, shooting a look at Jimmy who had his face buried in his hands. “You can’t possibly expect me to believe that.” He really wasn’t _that_ much of a hippie.

Bonzo took a sharp turn and Robert found himself pressed against Jimmy’s side (what fucking cologne was that anyway? Fragrance of the Gods?).

“Well, seeing is believing, little one.” Jonesy said, turning up the radio to drown out Jimmy’s muffled curses. “You two have fun in there.”

Bonzo slammed on the breaks sending them both face first into the headrest, and seriously Robert was _never_ driving with him again. “Jimmy, there’s a list. Stick to it.” He stepped out, slid his seat forward and peered at his two shaken passengers. Well, Robert was shaken, Jimmy looked, as usual, murderous. “Seriously?”

Robert seemed to be in the midst of counting every curl on his head to make sure he was indeed unharmed. “I..I thought we would die.”

Jonesy grinned, completely at ease. “You get used to it after a while.”

Jimmy was still refusing to move so Bonzo “helped” (yanked him out) a bit. “Out you go, come on.”

“What the fuck, Bonzo?” Jimmy grumbled, trying to arrange his hair in a presentable manner. “He looks like fifteen, I can’t take him in there.”

“Hey! I look mature.”

The brunette rolled his eyes impressively and Robert tried not to be attracted to his sass (really, he had to draw the line somewhere). “You’re wearing a floral pink blouse and a fucking flower crown.”

The blond crossed his arms across his chest a bit self-consciously. “And you look like the Hot Topic version of Edgar Allen Poe.” He snapped, reveling in the look of otter shock that crossed Jimmy’s face.

“Oooooh…drama.” Bonzo drawled, fishing out the list and shoving it into Jimmy’s pocket. “As much as I’m enjoying this, I’d really appreciate you getting outta here.” He more or less shoved them out of the way so he could hop in his van and slam the door.

“Have fun guys.” Jonesy called through the window, waving cheerfully. “Tell Morgan we said hello.”

Before Robert could reply, Bonzo put both windows up and locked the doors. Clearly they wouldn’t be getting back in until their mission was complete.

“Are you going to stand there and stare at me or are you gonna start walking?”

“Who says I was looking at you?”

“Robert, you were making direct eye contact.”

Well, oh.

Jimmy stalked off before Robert’s brain could come back online, and finally fished the crumpled list out of his jacket, squinting to read Bonzo's loopy (and totally shitty) handwriting in the dim glow of the streetlight.

_Things for Party we are definitely not having at Page’s house_

 

He needed new friends.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, trashy. But be gentle, I've never written LZ in my life.  
> Yeaaah, that's the actual title thanks to a friend, I'm still laughing so hard.


End file.
